The Harpy of Corinth
by SoaringGryphonProductions
Summary: From the ashes of a fallen city was born a legend unlike anything that has ever graced the sands of the arena. Please rate and review the arrival of the first Gladiatrix in the House of Batiatus. This fanfic is Rated M for everything that makes Spartacus awesome.
1. Chapter 1

**Spartacus: Blood and Sand**

**'The Harpy of Corinth'**

**Chapter 1- New Arrival**

Look into my eyes, pay attention and I will tell you a story. This is not a story of gods and heroes nor love and compassion. The story you will hear is one of pain and a monster that constantly needs to feed it's blood lust. This monster is not made of claws and teeth, but walls of stone and fueled by the cheers of the crowd. It is my duty to feed this monster. The story you will hear is mine, for I am a gladiatrix.

How it ends is yet to be told as I have yet to be defeated on the sands, but I will tell you how it all began. I was there. I was there when the strength of my people failed at the walls of Corinth. The summer breeze was replaced with smoke and flames coupled with the cries of women and children fleeing from the Romans. I was one of the few who stood my ground, but all in vane against the Roman armies.

My scorn for Rome awoke from everything I remembered that day. The flames roaring from temples and buildings. The sounds of women screaming after being thrown from the walls only to be silenced when their bodies hit the ground below. These brave men, those men with nothing to loose, remained at their posts fighting to the bitter end. I was proud to be among them as they wait for me in the afterlife.

When I awoke, I found myself being pulled away from my home to a city that seemed to have been shit out of Zeus's ass, Capua. I heard talk amongst the town folk that had not rained for three months. I suppose the gods have a sick sense of humor. The ground was as hot and dry as ash from the furnace, "Jupiter's Cock, let it rain for fuck's sake!" I heard a man making prayers in his own manner.

"Batiatus, come see the spoils of the siege against those Greek whores, slaves, the finest from Corinth," said the cart driver as I and a few others were yanked out. I fell down at the Roman's feet. I looked up at him and him at me. My scunner didn't lay with him. Off in the distance, I could hear the name of the man being paraded through the city for conquering my home; Mummius, Mummius, Mummius.

"What about this one?" the man named Batiatus asked the cart-driver. The cart-driver was a portly man, hairy as a Macedonian bear. He gestured me to get up. I got back on my feet without assistance, "tell me girl, what is your name?" It was clear that I was a hand taller than this man looking to purchase me. I can feel the weight of the shackles around my wrists and ankles, but it didn't matter to me.

The summer sweat stung my eyes and dripped off the bridge of my nose. He wasn't a soldier, but this Quintus Batiatus looked to be a man of status, "Kadri," I muttered. I looked around and at that moment I first laid eyes on the beast. I know he can see it in my eyes that I was not just an ordinary slave girl. I have lost my family, my home and now my freedom. I stand now as another man's property.

"You are indeed imposing," He stated, nodding his head in agreement with himself for his purchase, "there aren't any female gladiators for the games, yes, yes I just might have a use for you, Kadri...and for FUCKS SAKE SOMEONE GET HER SOME CLOTHES?!," the cart-driver gave him a simple piece of cloth. Then a new chapter in my life began. He led me to his home on top of what looked like a prison.

"She's a specimen, she's got a pair of tits and an ass to go with it, her cunt looks to be without deformity, but she has muscle certainly too much to be a servant in my chambers," said his wife, a woman named Lucretia. She looked like a woman who never got off her ass to do the simplest things, maybe just to get fucked by her husband, "tell me, what do you indeed to do with her?" She asked her husband.

"Capua is in need of a gladiatrix," He replied to his wife. I was being pulled along by the chain and collar around my neck. The man pulling me was his another slave named Ashur, "give this woman a sword and every man in the arena will dangle their cocks at the sight of her tits in armor...tell me do you any skills with weapons?" He asked me I nodded to him, "good...good, tomorrow I'll have you show me,"

I was chained to a wall with a few torches to light the room with a group of men, one of them being Batiatus. As I saw the red hot branding iron in Batiatus's hand, I struggled to try and free myself. For I had no idea what these gathered men were going to do with me. He pushed the brand into my arm above the wrist. It hurt like no other pain I had ever felt, but I did my best to conceal my tears.

"Well then, a sister...among the brotherhood...I bid you welcome, Kadri," He said as his final words before he left the chamber, but he also had his say to the other men in the room, "as for you cunts, if any of you try to put a cock in her I will have you all parted from your cocks and crucified," It's strange to see a man whose business is in death to possess some morals to compliment his forked tongue.

That evening, I was thrown into darkness. My cell is cold and bleak. The walls were scratched with records, records of a bloody past. How many times they had won in the beast, and how many times they had been let off. The next morning, I was awoken to the sunlight coming through my cell window and the crack of a whip. I was lined up with others that were purchased by Batiatus, I was not alone.

One of the first men I had the displeasure of meeting first hand was Kerza, "You don't belong in the arena, Corinthian Bitch," He whispered into my ear, I clinched a fist at my side, "save yourself from death and give me your cunt," I felt him put his hand on my ass and got a handful. The moment to express myself had come, and I answered it with a left hook to Kerza's cheek, sending him down to the sand.

"My cunt is not for you, Roman Fuck!" using my honed skill in Pankration for extra words in the conversation made of blood, sweat and my fists. Although I was taught to fight in this art as a sport, the events that shaped who I am give me no reason to be merciful. I did not stop until a few men held me down and I felt a whip sting my back before I had a chance to start gouging out Kerza's eyes.

A man was facing me and the other slaves, cracking his whip ever so often. The sound of the whip did not deter my focus, "Forget everything you learned outside these walls, for that is the world of men. We are more. We are gladiators! Study, train, bleed, and one day your name will be legend, spoken in hushed whispers, feared by all, as the city speaks of Crixus, Champion of Capua!"

The strong man stood in front of me. He was dark-skinned, welled muscled and imposing. He was slowly pacing from one side of the lined up men to the other. He stopped at me and looked at me in the eye. Like all the men I was nearly naked. The difference being I was given only a one piece thong and sandals, "I don't train women, but you...are different, here you are a virgin that has yet to taste cock!"

"You are new, to that you must taste your own blood...Barca!" A brute of a man came forward to face me. He towered over me in height. It looked as if Perseus somehow fucked Medusa to produce this man. I looked at my hands which once held a xiphos was replaced by two wooden swords. I heard talk in the night of this man Barca, the one they call the 'Beast of Carthage', "make her bleed,"


	2. Chapter 2

**Spartacus: Blood and Sand**

**'The Harpy of Corinth'**

**Chapter 2- 'Sister'  
**

I was silent, never taking my eyes off Barca for a single moment. He looked at me and smirked, "This one is too small, I will have something the size of a man," He taunted pointing his wooden spear at me. I stepped forward with my wooden gladii ready to fight. The sweat from my palms was greasing the grips I clinched. I knew I was at a disadvantage against a man of his size and his skill in combat, but every giant can fall.

It has been three days since I arrived in the ludus. My back is stinging from the many lashings of Doctore's whip, "Strong words, Carthaginian, let's see you back them up," I attacked first, even with me first strikes I knew I was over matched, but that didn't stop me. I am going to conquer this beast by any means necessary. I remember everything my father taught me. My father was a man who willing went against the old code.

My head is shaved, my body is beaten and bruised. Dominus Batiatus was watching from above with his wife Lucretia as his gladiators trained in the burning summer sun. This man, this man named Barca is fast for his size. I thought I would be facing a lumbering fool, but he was unlike anything I had ever faced. That included soldiers from the Roman Legions. His skill with a spear and shield could make him fit for a Greek phalanx.

I can hear my father's voice echoing in my head, telling me to keep my legs bent, never take my eyes off my opponent, keep your attacks constant and relentless and never let your opponent pit you on the defensive. I am the only gladiatrix in the ludus, when my time comes I will face men in the arena. Although the men mock me and show scorn, I was not deterred. This was my first step toward finding my place among the others.

Barca was blocking my every attack with his shield and spear. He swept me off my feet with skill and ease, but I will never give in to him. My back was against the ground. Time seemed to slow down as his spear came at my face, but time sped up as I blocked the wooden spear to the side and got back on my feet with the grace of a dryad. She dances in the forest to for tell the humans passerby that the coming of spring is near.

I got inside of his spear and shield and hit him in the nose with the pommel of my sword. It didn't knock him to the ground, but he stopped the blood. He didn't come at me like a raging beast, instead he laughed and spat out blood, "You look like a boy, you fight like a man, but even a woman can have a pair of balls between her legs," He joked, did I earn his respect or was he taunting me? I wasn't sure. I felt I left an impression at the least.

I kept my guard up none the less, "I'll make a pact with you, Harpy, if you can give me proper contest, you will have my respect," I knew this man's feelings were not of my kind. His feelings were for a young slave boy, an Egyptian named Pietros. A delicate boy he is. My thighs would most likely rip him in half. Barca charged at me head-on, "Now show me you have a pair of balls!" He yelled, and I was ready for him this time around.

I trapped his spear between my swords, but he lifted me over his shoulder like a bag of grain, but I landed on my feet and swung a slash at the back of his head. As if the had seen this attack coming one thousand times before, he weaved his head around and my blade struck the ends of his flowing dreadlocks. He spun around my back and attacked with his shield. I caught his shield with one sword and attacked with the other to his cheek.

He moved his spear up to parry my attack, "Good," He complimented plainly, and added to his words by grabbing my worst and throwing me down to the dusty ground. He struck my stomach with his spear like a club. I growled and cringed in pain, "but not good enough," I spat blood in his face and clutched my stomach in pain where he had struck me. I was hacking and coughing blood on the ground and crawling on my hands and knees.

As he walked away, I got up on my own power. I stumbled down and held myself up with my pathetic excuse for a sword. My body was in pain all over, but I stood up none the less. For that is the law of war, 'take what you can, give nothing back'. There was in pain with my every footstep, "I went at you with all my strength, yet here you still stand, you have the makings of a true gladiator, sister," Barca said, even Doctore seemed impressed.

I crossed my swords and bowed to him. To me, he was a brother. I will not give him my cunt, but only my hand in friendship, "Just because you don't have a cock between your legs, I will not treat you any different from the others, you have accomplished nothing," He said with scorn, once again putting the whip to my back, "BACK TO TRAINING!" He commanded. That night, I looked out my cell window at the stars in the evening sky.

Suddenly, there came a clatter from my cell bars, it was Ashur, Batiatus's bookkeeper. Even just looking in his eyes, it is hard to tell which has more morals, him or a serpent, "Whatever you need, Ashur provides," He said holding what appeared to be a helmet. It had a face guard with twelve holes on each of the top corners for which to see out of. It had a broad brim and metal work on the sides and a falcon's head in front of a orange and red crest.

As he presented me with the helmet. I studied the helmet and looked up at him. It was light, not too heavy like the helmets I am used to wearing, "There must be a reason for your generosity Ashur," I asked as he left my cell and walked down the hallway. Then it hit me like a mule kicking me in the head, "when do I fight?" I asked him, but he didn't turn around to answer me. His cheeky attitude started to annoy me until he finally answered.

"You fight tomorrow, rest well, cunt," He said leaving the holding area. I fight tomorrow. Questions began running through my head. Who was I going to face? I have only been here for three days, is there a reason I have been chosen to fight so soon? For many of my kind, once one gets out onto the area, that would be the moment they draw their last living breath. I suffered myself to be whipped, burned, and beaten all for these moments.


End file.
